Hard to Break
by WinterFrost15
Summary: The day of the Gozer incident, Egon got a broken ankle. Instead of taking the logical steps to fix it, he took the coward's way out - he didn't tell anyone about it. Now, two excruciating weeks later, will Janine finally blow his cover and make him out to be a weak fool? Find out! (EgonxJanine fluff)
1. Chapter 1

**Rest in peace Harold Ramis, 1944-2014. You'll never be forgotten.**

1.

Egon hadn't told the others about his physical infirmity.

In his mind it was not very important, merely an aggravating trifle that could be dealt with. Besides, the pain in his ankle had amounted to nothing more than a dull ache. Surely that did not present any reason for his friends to rush him to the hospital? Surely he could just walk it off, pretend nothing was wrong, until it managed to heal itself?

That fall into the sinkhole hours before had not been as bad as he'd thought, the irrational (and particularly _emotional_) part of his mind began to convince him. He was just overreacting. He had only strained something. It would be fine in a day or two, possibly sooner if he avoided standing or walking for a little awhile.

Egon tried not to let his discomfort show now as Janine came running up to hug him. He was not, however, prepared for the force of her embrace, for as he tried to steady his feet on the ground and keep himself from falling over, he felt a searing pain shoot up and down his leg like a gunshot. He had to bite his lip to keep from hissing with pain, shifting his weight quickly but subtly onto his uninjured foot. He was only too grateful when Janine pulled away, hurrying off to see how the others were doing, so that he could let out a small whimper of anguish.

Grimacing, and cursing Dana Barrett's apartment building under his breath all the while, Egon started his way over to where his fellow Ghostbusters Ray, Peter and Winston were huddled around the Ecto-1. He knew he was limping slightly as he approached, but at this point it hardly mattered, just so long as no one noticed it and started fessing over him like a mother hen.

For once Peter wasn't acting like an ass, because he was helping Winston remove his proton pack and store in its customary rack in the back of the car. Ray had already claimed the driver's seat, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he jingled the keys in growing impatience. When Egon finally arrived on the scene, he shrugged his pack off his shoulders and half-tossed, half-shoved it into Peter's outstretched arms, while at the same time pulling a handkerchief from his pockets and wiping his marshmallow-burnt face. Winston looked askance at him, a sympathetic and tired look in his face. This ordeal had really taken a toll on all of them.

With a sigh, Egon opened the door and squeezed his way into the backseat. Winston soon followed, with Peter straggling behind as he walked up front to join Ray. Within moments, with everyone safely buckled in for the ride, Ray fired up the Ecto-1 and blasted off, the car shrieking like a ghost as they raced away into the night.

It was silent for some time before anyone said anything - so of course it was only logical that Peter would be the one to speak up first.

"That was some crazy shit back there, wouldn't you say?" he said, laughing a bit uncertainly.

The others nodded, murmuring with agreement. As they did Egon couldn't help but peer down at his ankle again with a bitter and helpless look. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned it experimentally to one side. He instantly regretted it as he felt pain stab through every nerve in his leg. He couldn't clamp down the involuntary gasp that escaped him in time as he let it rest back in its previous position. Unfortunately this moment of weakness had not been lost on Peter and Winston. They both looked at him, Winston with a concerned expression on his features, Peter with a slightly put-off but equally troubled gaze. "You alright, pal?" Winston asked, patting his shoulder.

"Yeah," Egon replied, forcing what he hoped was a weary smile. "Everything is just starting to sink in, I think." He had to admit, though, he really was exhausted.

Winston nodded. "I feel ya', man," he said. "I'm _still_ tryin' to sort out what the hell happened back there."

After a brief pause, Peter interjected cheerfully, "Hey, guys. Why don't we go out to eat? It's on me."

"What sounds good?" Ray called from the driver's seat, drawing heavily on his cigarette.

"Thai or Mexican," Egon responded without hesitation.

Peter rolled his eyes. "That always sounds good to you, Egon," he groaned. "To be honest, I don't think I've seen you eat anything else, not counting the dozen or so Twinkies and Crunch bars you scarf down every day. But if you insist. . ." He turned towards Ray. "_Baminos, mi amigo_!"

Now it was Egon's turn to roll his eyes. Granted, he was fairly glad that Peter had swung his way this time, but that was not really his main concern at the moment. He was just praying that Ray would decide not to drive reckless for once. The last thing he needed right now was the car shaking and sending painful shock-waves through his ankle.

Still, as long as he got a taco out of the deal, then he would be living más.

_more to come. . ._

**Author's Notes: **

**I have to say, it has been hard to cope with Harold Ramis's death. I did not know his line of work very well, but I've watched Groundhog Day and both Ghostbusters movies, and felt almost immediately, after watching and re-watching them many times, that Harold was family to me. It might sound kind of strange, but that's how my mind works I guess. Almost all of my idols feel like part of my family. **

**My best impression of who Mr. Ramis was was as Dr. Egon Spengler from Ghostbusters. To me, Egon is the best character in those movies, and in my opinion I think you can really see Harold's personality shine through Egon. **

**From what I have heard from those closest to him, he was a kind, compassionate, and caring man who enjoyed life and enjoyed what he did for a living. And I must agree with them. Harold Ramis was truly a great man, and I do not know what we will do without him. **

**In the immortal words of Dan Aykroyd, may he now get the answers he was always seeking. **


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The supreme taco Egon ordered, with extra sour cream and cheese, was delicious, but it did not assuage the intense throbbing that was currently running the length of his calves and thighs. He tried his hardest not to think about it, to focus on the (somewhat normal) conversation the others were having about sports and television. His mind, however, could not break away from the pain, and from the horrors he had witnessed on that rooftop. In all honesty he was quite surprised they all had not been arrested on the spot, considering the damage they had caused - inadvertently or otherwise. His mind flickered briefly to the damaged rooftop again, and he wondered for a moment if they had really defeated Gozer the Gozerian or not. _But of course we did, _he thought, shaking his head in frustration. _We crossed the proton streams, which sent a powerful blast of energy through the Gateway. There's no way Gozer could have survived. . ._

Then Egon remembered Dana Barrett and Louis Tully. Dana had been caught right in the middle of the whole mess, as well as poor Louis, having been transformed into minions of the Gozerian for a time. That is, great, dog-like minions with hideously bad breath and boiling hot tempers strong enough to blast Hell itself out of existence. Egon was only too glad that he and the other had rescued those two from Gozer's influence; he wasn't certain how he would have reacted if anyone had actually died.

The familiar firehouse-like structure that was Ghostbusters HQ soon rolled into view. Egon sighed gratefully, wishing to get out of the Ecto-1 as soon as possible and catch up on some much-needed sleep. As they pulled into the building he saw that Janine had arrived ahead if them, for her car was sitting quietly to the right-hand side of their vehicle as they drove forward.

Once Ray stopped the car everyone began to get out. Winston was the first to open the backseat door and climb down. He turned back and soon realized Egon was having difficulty getting out of his own seat.

"Need some help there?" Winston said, smiling and offering his hand. Egon took it appreciatively and hauled himself up. The pain was worse than ever now - it was all he could do to hold back the tears. Slowly but surely, he was able to ease himself down into solid ground; then he panicked as he suddenly felt his knees give out beneath him. Desperately, he clung to Winston's overalls, his strength rapidly fleeing as exhaustion and pain struck with a vengeance.

"Peter, Ray, get over here quick!" Egon heard Winston yell, but at that point he was too very gone to register it entirely. He just wanted to sleep, to fall away from these mortal impairments of the body and soul and soar forever in the empty, blissful void. As he thought this he felt his eyes drift close, felt his mind yield to the gaping maw of black that awaited him on the other side. Wherever that was. . .

"EGON!" It was the voice of Peter. "C'mon buddy, don't clock out on us now!"

This stirred Egon a little. The shroud of darkness closing in seemed to lift ever so slightly, allowing him to view a strange, blurred image of his friend and colleague. Gathering up what small remnant of physical strength he could, he determinedly concentrated on Peter's face, willing its features to sharpen into great clarity before him.

Obviously noticing his efforts, Peter smiled sympathetically. It was the kindest gesture Egon had ever seen from him in all these years. "Hang in there, pal," he said. He and the others were starting to fade again as he spoke. "Dr. Venkman and Dr. Stantz are here to make everything A-okay."

Egon tried to nod, to give some indication that he understood, but the effort was simply too much. His senses were soon overwhelmed by oblivion, and the worried faces of his friends were swiftly snatched away with it.

_more to come. . ._

**Author's Note: **

**Yes, this is rather short! I apologize for that, but I promise the next one will be a bit longer. Still, I hope this was an okay read. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

3.

The first thing Egon remembered when he came to his senses was the feeling of warmth. It was the kind of comforting sensation that made him feel safe. It was also the sensation of sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms, as the quiet night sky fell upon the world.

The second thing he recalled was the cruel, cold and very literal slap of reality he received in the face a moment later.

The sting of the hit woke him completely. Eyes flying open, the hazy shapes of Peter and Ray swam into view, wavering a little before solidifying like insects under a microscope. Peter was leaning over him slightly, hand still hovering near his face as if in preparation to slap him again. With a burning glare, however, the Ghostbuster dropped his hand and straightened up.

"Ding-dong," Peter said, grinning at Egon like an idiot. "Twinkie delivery." He held up a package of the delectable sweets to further emphasize his cruel joke.

Egon managed a smile. "Ha ha," he shot back sarcastically. "Very funny, Venkman."

This, of course, only fed Peter's ego further. "Ha ha," he repeated in the same tone of voice. "I know, I'm such a card, aren't I? I'm just surprised Dana hasn't figured that out yet."

"She'll come to her senses, ol' pal," Ray assured, patting Peter's shoulder. Then, moving in front of Peter in order to stand beside Egon, he promptly rolled his eyes and twirled a finger next to his head which clearly said, _"boy, isn't he crazy?" _

"The day Dana Barrett sees something in Venkman is the day Hell freezes over," Ray murmured aloud, so that only Egon could hear. "Personally _I'm _surprised Dana hasn't stuck it where it counts where Peter's concerned."

Egon smirked in agreement. "She will sooner or later, Raymond," he said. "It's kind of a given when you're in a relationship with a guy like that."

"Yeah," Ray laughed. "Right. But anyway," he went on, sitting next to Egon on his left side. (They must've carried him to his bed, he realized, noticing the familiar landmarks of the Ghostbusters HQ living quarters.) "How're you feelin', Spengs?"

"Like the floor of a taxi cab," Egon replied. He distinctly recalled making the same comment after they had roasted Mr. Stay Puft. It just seemed appropriate now as well, he decided, even without being buried in the remains of a monstrous marshmallow man.

Ray chuckled grimly and nodded. "Sorry to hear," he said. "It's just good to see you awake again, pal. Frankly, we were all starting to get worried about ya'."

"I wasn't talking in my sleep again, was I?" Egon found himself asking. "I realize that I may have the bothersome tendency to verbalize certain aspects of my subconscious which-"

"No, no, it wasn't anything like that, Spengler," Ray interrupted gently, holding up a hand. "You fainted, and were out for nearly three days straight. _That's_ why we were worried. We were considering contacting the hospital at one point, even."

"Oh," Egon said. "I see. But I can assure you I do not need medical attention. I am perfectly fine."

Despite being wrong in his first assumption (that he had been delirious and was talking in his unconscious state) Egon still felt a flare of embarrassment rise in his cheeks. And he felt like a fool, too, for not being stronger for his fellow Ghostbusters, and for lying right in the face of one of his colleagues. But three days? That was ridiculous! He couldn't stand being cast in the awkward spotlight like that. He was supposed to be the quiet member of the group, fixing things here and there, giving his input when it was acquired or sometimes even appreciated. He was not the damsel in distress, someone who the others flocked on and cossetted over to no end.

In any case, he was _not _the weak one who needed constant care and supervision. He was a grown man - he could handle himself.

"Well, thank you very much, Raymond," Egon finally said. "And you too, Venkman," he added reluctantly. "I think I'll go down to my lab now and see how you all have kept the place up in my absence."

Determined to show them both that he was in control of his fate and his life, he pulled off the blanket that had been slung over his body and made to stand up. But all of sudden, a sickeningly familiar pain rocketed through his leg, sending him down onto the bed again in the course of mere seconds. He winced, hunching over as he bit his lips forcefully. He had, quite stupidly, forgotten about the injury he had acquired three days before. He had been so caught up in proving his worth to himself and to the others, that he'd disregarded one of the most important things right now that could possibly impede his goal.

The pain, he noted after some time, had dulled considerably in the passing days, but it did not prevent the fresh wave of torment he was experiencing from crashing over him, threatening to bring forbidden tears to his eyes. He continued to lean over the edge of his bed for a few moments as Ray patted his back and attempting to console him.

Suddenly, however, a cylindrical shape was pushed into Egon's trembling hands. After a minute of groping with the object, he realized it was a small metal trash can.

"Throw up in there if you have to, Spengs," Peter's voice directly in front of him advised. "Just aim it down and not forward at me or Momma Hen there beside you, okay?"

Egon nodded and lowered his head a couple inches into the trash can, waiting to see if his churning stomach would decide to cooperate. In the course of his waiting he heard two new pairs of feet entering the room, which were soon identified as belonging to Winston and Janine.

"You feelin' any better, man?" Winston asked, one of the many questions he had for Egon in the following fifteen minutes of uncertainty. They were inquiries which Egon tried to answer honestly - but the one problem he could not tell him, or really any of them, was that all of his pain was the result of a severely broken ankle. He simply couldn't find the courage to admit that he was inefficient and helpless. Divulging this newfound secret, he knew, would disillusion those he cared about - they would think of him as a coward, as a weak-willed and pitiful excuse for a man living in a secluded jungle of science, research and test tubes, with nothing to live for but the world of knowledge to soothe his lonely soul.

Which was why he had to hide his pain. . .not just for himself, but for the sake of his friends. There was just no room for weakness in the machinations of the paranormal world in which he and his team had immersed themselves. And where there _was _weakness, there had to be the strength to overcome it.

A lesson he was now failing miserably at.

After Winston finished questioning him, Egon listened as he and the others milled about, anxiously shuffling papers or else tinkering with nearby objects which he could not see. His stomach eventually settled enough that he was able to open his eyes again. He noticed a couple things right away.

Firstly, that his team members had mysteriously left the room without a sound.

And second, that Janine was now sitting next to him instead of Ray, rubbing a gentle hand over the length of his back.

**Author's Note: **

**Wow. This took me longer than I thought. **

**For those of you who have reviewed and/or followed this story, thank you so much for your support. And thanks must also go out to Whovian-Trekkie, whose PM urged me a little bit further to complete this next installment. My sincerest gratitude. :)**

**There will at least one of two more parts to this particular story, one being the last (and the fluffiest) the other perhaps being an epilogue of sorts. At this point I am not quite certain, but we'll just have to see. **

**I hope this story does not seem too drawn out - I just wanted to lay down some of Egon's personal thoughts on strengths and weaknesses before *finally* getting on with the fluffy sections with him and Janine. **

**Also, I am planning on writing a much larger story which may play on a few elements set down in this one. For those of you who are interested, this new story will called "_The Demon and Dr. Spengler,_" and it will deal with Egon being possessed, with the other Ghostbusters and Janine fighting to bring him back and purge the demon which is controlling him. The story will have what I hope are some interesting and unexpected twists, so once the next one or two parts of this are complete, be on the look out for this new story! I hope you will not be disappointed by it, and have not been disappointed with "_Hard to Break" _so far either!**


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Egon started to blush despite himself. Then, pulling himself together, he cleared his throat awkwardly and ducked his head in the trash can again, in the hopes of convincing his new. . ._visitor. . ._that his "sick spell" was not quite over.

But this swift cover-up must've been a rather feeble one, for Janine was beginning to blush as well.

"No need to be nervous, Egon," she said sweetly. Her hand traveled upward to rest between his shoulder blades - an action which made his breath hitch and his body stiffen, and the ever-present flush in his cheeks simmer beneath his skin with fiery embarrassment.

"I told the guys to scram so you could have some breathing room," Janine remarked, giggling. "You shoulda seen the way they were fessin' over you for the past three days. 'Specially Venkman. He's been a real sweetheart!"

Egon looked at her, eyes widening in a fashion that seemed to say, _"You're kidding." _

Janine giggled again and shrugged.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," she said. "But at least it's good to know our resident jerk has a heart of gold beneath his tough exterior."

Egon's mouth quirked into a faint smile. "Peter, a good-hearted saint? That'll be the day."

They both laughed for awhile at this, and as they sat side by side Egon grew more comfortable. The pain in his ankle, meanwhile, had subsided to a faint twinge of protest.

He had to admit, he had never felt as relaxed as he was now, particularly in the presence of a woman. Usually this sort of easygoing conversation with the female population brought out the more reserved and technical aspects of his persona, a side of him which many sought to avoid.

But this time it was different. He was smiling, laughing, even joking around - three things he rarely achieved all in one day, much less within the course of a few minutes. Perhaps with the absence of his fellow team members, the need to loosen up was a bit greater, allowing his cold, calculating mask to fall away in order for his true self to peek through. But did he even know, or _wish_ to know, his true self? Could he truly rely on such an unpredictable force? And what would happen if he let his heart, rather than his mind, influence his everyday thoughts and intentions?

Egon took a deep breath, shoving these pressing matters aside for a moment. Then he straightened up on the bed and, carefully minding not to move his left leg, placed the metal trash can the guys had given him in its customary spot beside his bed stand. As he did his gaze swept over the familiar tabletop items: notebooks and pencils, research papers, the spare set of glasses he kept nearby in case of an accident (or, even, a prank), his favorite lamp molded into the shape of a lighthouse. Even a copy of _Tobin's Spirit Guide _was there, worn at the edges from age and use yet infinitely valuable.

And finally, on top of the _Guide, _there rested the same package of Hostess Twinkies Peter had brought for him earlier. The plastic wrap reflected the mid-morning sunlight that streamed an open window, slightly obscuring the delicious cakes within.

So without thinking, Egon quickly grabbed the package, ripped it open, and took a large, satisfying out of one of the cream-filled confections. It was moist and creamy, coating every inch of his mouth with sugary goodness. It wasn't until he stuffed the rest of it into his mouth that he realized how hungry he must've been, despite his physical injury and its subsequent mental side effects. He was now only too grateful that Peter's sudden compassion had offered him a temporary salvation from his weakened state.

Making a mental note to personally thank his colleague later, Egon soon finished off the second Twinkie, and threw the plastic wrapper away. He saw that Janine was grinning from ear to ear when he once again met her gaze.

"Glad to see you're feelin' better, Egon," she said. She wrapped an arm around him and pulled herself close in a semi-hug. The she quickly let go, and stood up.

"But you still need some rest, mister, so don't let me catch you bustin' any ghosts while my back's turned!" she added. "I'll just be downstairs if you need anything, though. Don't hesitant to yell."

And with that, Janine turned and strolled away, leaving Egon to stare after her with a dazed and boyish grin.

* * *

Peter was lurking by Janine's desk when she entered the main lobby area, discreetly glancing at a pile of papers she had organized there as if searching for something scandalous or provocative. Sighing irritably, she sashayed over to him, looked him up and down for a moment, and promptly shoved his burly figure a good five feet into a filing cabinet.

"Hey, easy on the football moves there, sweetheart," he called, righting himself just as he threatened to trip over. "I don't wanna get permanent brain damage!" He then started readjusting the casual gray T-shirt and black sweatpants he had managed to slip into a few moments before, something akin to hurt pride pinching his features.

"With all due respect, Dr. Venkman," Janine replied as she sat down, making herself at home. "Your present state of mind is already cause for much concern."

"What, you callin' me crazy? Nuts-o?" Peter shot back with mock-menace. "Well, you haven't seen _nothing _yet, buttercup!"

"Is that a _threat, _Dr. Venkman?" Janine asked, raising a challenging eyebrow just as Ray strolled in. He had abandoned his casual outfit (a ragged, navy blue tank-top and Loony Tunes boxer-shorts, in this case) and was now decked out in his Ghostbusters uniform. A proton pack was slung over his back. Behind him, Winston had dressed himself the same way - ditching the laid-back garments of a red, open-necked V shirt and camouflage pants - and was shrugging into his own pack.

"No time for fighting now, ladies," Ray admonished, throwing a smirk at Peter when he gave him the stink-eye. "We have business to attend to."

"So soon?" Peter said. He adopted an innocent puppy-dog look. "What about poor Spengs?"

" "_Poor Spengs_" is stayin' right here, boys," Janine retorted firmly. "The paranormal underworld you all mess around in ain't no place for him right now. He needs tender, love and care. . .he needs to be taken care of and comforted."

"Ooooh," Peter drawled out playfully, a wide grin spreading across his features. "Someone's gotta crush!"

Ray choked down a laugh at this, and Winston just looked away, resisting the urge to smile. At a murderous look from Janine, however, their faces fell and they composed themselves in short order.

"That's very funny, Venkman," she snapped. "Unfortunately _I _fail to see the humor." Electing to ignore him, she pulled open one of her desk drawers, retrieved a magazine, and began to read.

After a long moment of silence, however, she couldn't help but peer over the top of the volume, and found that Peter's face was right behind it, eyes locked with her just a few centimeters away. By the crinkle that appeared around his eyes, she knew that he was smiling with obvious triumph.

Janine lowered her magazine to find Peter doing just that, leaning close in a way that invoked discomfort. And as she continued to meet his strangely penetrating gaze, he edged closer still, until they were almost touching noses.

"I knew it," he said softly, pausing for dramatic effect. Then he went on. "Your heart, dear lady, beats for the sweet passions of Dr. Egon Spengler."

Another pause. Then, finally:

"You're in love with him, Janine."

* * *

Egon was drifting off to sleep again when he heard a loud slam coming from downstairs, followed by a procession of warbling, cracking noises. Jolted awake, he pushed his glasses further up his nose and tried rolling out of bed.

It was surprisingly easy to find his footing and stand up - his leg muscles must've gone into shock, for he no longer felt any pain; just a dull stiffness running from his foot up to the left side of his pelvis. But while he did not feel the pain, he was smart enough to know that this new development was not a particularly positive one, and would possibly only get worse as it progressed without treatment.

But this was not a pressing concern, Egon reminded himself. What was more important, was figuring out just what in the name of Stephen Hawking his colleague had gotten themselves into now.

Sighing, he grabbed _Tobin's Spirit Guide _and hobbled his way out of the room. If things came to a head, he would need one of the best weapons in the Ghostbusters arsenal.

_'And that,' _Egon thought proudly. _'Is knowledge.'_

* * *

Walking downstairs proved to be a rather easier experience than Egon thought it would. But climbing back _up _them, however, would be a completely different story.

It didn't matter, Egon decided as he turned left towards the lobby area. Ascending a flight and a half of stairs was the least of his worries. No, the first and foremost worry he had at the moment was the produce of what he was currently seeing before him: complete and utter chaos.

Papers and furniture were scattered everywhere. Chairs with snapped off legs and burnt cushions smoked silently against a backdrop of upturned filing cabinets, soiled portfolios, and a flaming computer. Just a couple feet away from where Egon stood, Ray, Peter and Winston were huddled behind an upturned table. Ray and Winston were clothed in their uniforms, but only Winston carried his proton pack. Peter was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants, and was nursing a rather nasty bruise on his forehead.

When they all saw him, their faces lit up with a mixture of relief and horror, Peter lowering his hand in the process to reveal a small smudge of blood welling up from a cut hidden by the angry blemish he had procured.

Egon opened his mouth to ask them what the hell had happened, when his gaze suddenly fastened onto the trembling form of Janine a few feet away. She looked shaken and pale, her glasses askew, hair a ruffled mess. She also seemed to be wearing one of the proton packs (perhaps Ray's even, he deduced). The neutrona wand was in her hands, humming in such a way that he knew it must've been recently fired.

Shock was really the only word that could accurately describe Egon's reaction. He had never imagined that the smart-mouthed but good-natured secretary could be pushed over the edge like this. What could his fellow Ghostbusters have possibly done to anger her so?

Then it hit him: Venkman. Of course! One of his ignorant and obnoxious comments must've hit a little too close to home; now she was trying to get payback. Egon smirked - he couldn't help but feel amused by this display. Peter was finally getting what he deserved, and from a particularly unexpected source to boot!

"Good job," he said aloud, trying to diffuse the tension a bit. He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Way to stand up to Peter, and-"

All of a sudden, however, a blazing streak of light leaped from the wand, soaring above the Ghostbusters' heads. It burned a table in its way, making it buckle inwards - then it moved upward and took out some of the staircase and ceiling. The team ducked their heads and closed their eyes, until finally Janine powered off Ray's pack, and the resulting dust storm settled.

Peter, of course, had to open his big fat mouth again. "This chick's wacko, Egon!" he exclaimed. "You need to calm her the hell down before she reverses our atoms."

"Why do _I_ have to be the one to calm her down, Peter?" Egon shot back with a glare.

His colleague was dead serious when he answered back with, "Well, you're her boyfriend, aren't you? She'll listen to you better than any one of us."

For once, Egon was struck speechless. Boyfriend? _Boyfriend? _He and Janine weren't. . .it wasn't. . .how could Peter. . .

"Shut the hell up, Venkman!" Janine yelled, halting any further thoughts Egon might have had as she shot another proton stream directly at Peter's head. He quickly ducked, however, the stream passing harmlessly through the empty space where his head had previously sat. The table from earlier was not as fortunate, in this case, for its legs crumbled away and the whole surface of it caught ablaze.

"Miss Melnitz, you've made your point!" Egon tried. Perhaps he could force some peace and logic into this unstable situation - first, by addressing her in the proper and professional manner.

But Janine merely shot daggers at him - although her initial anger seemed to have abated somewhat. Now she simply looked tired and ruffled, like an upset peacock.

Defeated, it seemed, she dropped the proton wand and began shrugging off Ray's pack, until she was holding it by one of the straps. Then she gently lowered it to the ground and stepped towards Egon.

He smiled in satisfaction. "Thank you," he said approvingly. "I'm glad we-"

The slap he received in the face then made all other words escape him. The next moment, before he could regain any sense of rational thought, Janine pressed her lips against his. There was an urgency and passion in her embrace, as well as anger. When she pulled away, her cheeks were burning crimson red and furious tears were beginning to streak down her face.

Embarrassed and horrified, she turned and darted up the stairs, out of sight.

Egon watched her go then turned to his team, his own cheeks flushed. The others didn't seem amused - only as shocked and confused as he felt by the turn of events.

"I. . .I think Janine and I just kissed," he managed to say at last.

**Author's Note**

**Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoyed this! Took me forever to get it typed up; I did a rough draft of this before hand and had to do a lot of editing along the way. Any comments are appreciated. :) **


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Peter opened his mouth, then closed it, for once unable to blurt out a quick and clever comeback.

Egon cleared his throat, searching for something to say himself. He just couldn't understand what had happened. What in living hell had Venkman said to piss off Janine? Why had it upset her so much that she had taken a proton pack and nearly dispersed their molecules? And. . .and why had she kissed him?

"Maybe you should talk to her, Spengs," Ray piped up, as he and the others stood up and moved away from their sanctuary behind the battered table. "Ya' know, find out what's wrong."

Egon nodded, then stopped and glared at Peter. "Maybe _he _could enlighten me on the situation," he said, pointing to his colleague.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Egon," he groaned. "Why do you always assume _I'm_ involved when something bad happens?"

"Because I'm one of your closest friends, Peter," Egon retorted. "At least as close as one _should_ get. We also worked together at Columbia University for many years. I think that's sufficient time to come to understand the workings of a demented mind like yours. Now, with that said, tell me what you did to set off our poor secretary like that."

"How should I know!" Peter snapped. His hand reached up to massage his bruised forehead. "That woman hit me with a neutrona wand. She's batshit loco, man!"

"And she stole my proton pack!" Ray chimed in. Then he added sheepishly, "And, ah, that's why Pete's got that bruise, I'm afraid."

Peter gave him the stink eye again and made as if to slap him upside the head. Ray glared menacingly right back and gripped the PKE meter he had at his belt - as if _that _would really help in a fist-fight, Egon thought to himself.

"Will you two just grow a pair already?" Winston snapped, startling both them and Egon. "You're the ones who antagonized her in the first place. She was just defending herself like any other self-respecting woman would."

"Damn, Winston," Peter said with soft, feigned awe. "You really _can_ put us in our place when we need it."

Winston just smirked at him but did not respond.

"_Anyway_," Egon said firmly. "Would _anyone _like to tell me why Janine freaked out, or do I have to resort to a tiresome guessing game?"

Peter's shoulders slumped like he was bored, and he hung his head, sighing. Then he shuffled over to Egon, closing the short distance between them, and put a hand on his shoulder. "What do _you_ think, Spengs?" he said sardonically. A huge grin erupted onto his features then. "I even gave you a clue."

For a moment Egon narrowed his eyes and shook his head at him in confusion. Then it came to him, so suddenly that his eyes widened and he felt himself blush for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

"You. . .you told her I was interested in her, didn't you, Peter?" he whispered, horrified.

Peter just smiled. "Oh, no," he replied. "_Nothing_ like that. I merely told her what I noticed happening between you two on _her_ end. She's got a crush on you, Egon. She practically admitted it. . .and now you've just confirmed my suspicions fully."

"I didn't mean. . .I'm not. . ." Egon spluttered, heart racing. Oh God, what had he done? Had he really just revealed his feelings for Janine in front of his colleagues? "We're not together," he snapped.

"_Yet,_" Peter laughed. "Now, how did that old rhyme go again? Oh, that's right. _Egon and Janine, sittin' in a tree_. . ."

Egon's face hardened. "Don't," he warned.

"_K-I-S-S-I-N-G. . ._"

"Stop it, Peter."

"_First comes loves, then comes marriage. . ._"

Egon turned to Ray, and pointed at the proton pack behind him. "Hand me that, will you?"

"_Then comes baby in the baby carriage!" _Peter all but screamed, just as a bolt of energy leapt from the neutrona wand and sizzled the air right above his head. Shocked, Peter threw himself down on the floor and shielded himself with his hands, until Egon let off from the wand. He was definitely still angry, but that didn't mean he had to destroy the whole Headquarters to prove it.

"Spengs, Spengs, Spengs," Peter tutted, getting to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with dangerous toys?"

"I never had any toys," Egon retorted. He pulled off the proton pack and handed it over to Ray. "My parents believed that recreational objects such as "_toys__"_ were for children who did not have a refined education. Funnily enough, it would seem that that accurately describe your _own_ childhood, Venkman."

And with that, Egon turned and headed for the burnt staircase, and soon had disappeared from view.

Meanwhile, the other guys looked around at the devastation Janine had caused, shaking their heads.

"You should've just left the woman be, Venkman," Ray said, as he pulled out his box of cigarettes and a lighter. "And you shoulda' left Egon alone, too. You really had all that comin', him grilling ya' like that."

"You're the one who egged me on earlier, FYI," Peter shot back. "So you're just as guilty for what happened here as I am."

"Oh, please," Ray scoffed. "You just have no respect for another human being's emotions."

Winston glared at them both, then turned and started picking up some scattered portfolios. If he had to clean this mess up alone, then so be it, he decided. He would let the two schoolgirls fight it out amongst themselves. He only hoped it wouldn't be this heated between Egon and Janine. He liked them both, and didn't wish something like Peter's stupid ignorance to stand in the way of their possible relationship.

Winston stopped, suddenly realizing what exactly he was implying. _Lord, _he thought, glancing at Ray and Peter, who were still shouting at each other. _I'm starting to sound like those two! Egon Spengler the Ghostbuster and Janine Melnitz the Secretary . .a really unlikely pair when you think about it. But what if. . ._

He let the question hang there unfinished as he resumed with the clean up. What if, what if. . .

* * *

It was chilly when Egon limped down the upstairs corridor toward the Ghostbusters living quarters. He wondered vaguely if one of the guys had left the window open in the bedroom, but quickly ascertained from his vantage point that it was tightly shut. He pulled his jumpsuit closer about him, distantly realizing that he indeed was still wearing his Ghostbusting uniform. Once he was up to it, he'd changed into his casual sweater-vest, tie, and pants. But right now, he just wanted to find Janine and see if she was alright.

Egon looked left and right, then took a right as he remembered where Janine's own living quarters were on the premises. She rarely used them since she had her own apartment elsewhere in Manhattan, but still it was there, in the event she couldn't get home or wished to stay with the team for whatever reason. Now Egon stumbled down the somewhat familiar hallway, hoping she would be there.

And, to his immense relief, she was.

Janine was sitting on top of the light blue sheets of the bed, her back to Egon, knees pulled up to her chin with her arms wrapped around them. For the first time Egon noticed the delicate shape of her legs, the way her hair fell over her eyes from an angle in such a way that she seemed mysterious and beautiful and. . .

He stopped himself. For Einstein's sake, what was wrong with him? How could he even bear to face her with these sort of emotions? It was awful and disgusting of him, and completely the sort of impulses Peter had probably relied on since he had been old enough to understand women. He had no right to feel this way. . .no right to be. . .to be. . .

_In love, _he finished silently. _I have no right to be in love. My parents raised me better than this, raised me to be above petty emotions like love. Simple satisfaction; brief pride; subtle humor, if any; immense passion in occupations which would benefit society and teach it the proper ways of humanity. That's what they taught me, and now I have to remember to keep myself in check, before I'm cast out by them _and _my friends. _

Straightening up, Egon impassively knocked on the already open door to herald Janine's attention, determined to be a model of stoic efficiency.

Janine jumped a little at the noise, but relaxed when she realized it was only him. "Oh," she squeaked, smiling slightly. "Hello, Egon."

"May I enter?" he asked. She nodded, so he crossed the threshold of her room and swiftly pulled up a chair in front of her.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions," he said when he had settled. "About what happened downstairs a moment ago."

"Look, Egon, I'm sorry," Janine began, not meeting his gaze. She stretched out her legs and swung around to sit on the edge of the bed, so that she was facing him, though she kept her eyes down. "I didn't mean to snap back there. It's just. . .Dr. Venkman was pushin' my buttons. You know how he is."

Egon nodded in understanding. "May I inquire as to what he did or said that distressed you so much?"

Janine didn't respond. She just fiddled with her hands and bit her botton lip, looking everywhere but him. After a moment, he put his hands over hers, intending to tell her what he believed he knew about the situation. But suddenly he felt his chest tighten as he tried to speak. His mouth started to feel dry. Unconsciously, he started stroking the tops of her hands with her own, leaning in close.

A look of surprise passed over Janine's face, and at last she met his gaze. When she did he felt his heart clench against his ribs._  
_

"Um," he croaked. "I. . .I. . ." His mind had gone completely blank. Just why had he come here again? To ask Janine something, something important? He couldn't remember. All he could think to do was stare at her and hope he could recall why he was here, sitting with her, closing the distance between them as if getting ready to. . .

Suddenly Egon's thoughts snapped back into place. He pulled away his hands and straightened up, forgetting completely the confusing and slightly intimate moment, as his machine mind reeled itself back into focus.

"So, did Peter offer to show you his Playboy collection?" he asked briskly. "Or was he just being an obnoxious git like usual?"

Janine looked at him, stunned. Then she blinked rapidly and forced a smile. "Yeah," she said softly. She cast her eyes down again, a forlorn look entering them. "Somethin' like that. I'm fine now, though. I'm sorry again for damaging the work-space an' stuff. I'll try and pay for it all the first chance I get."

"That won't be necessary," Egon said, as he stood up and started his way toward the door. "I'm sure our insurance will cover it."

"Do we even have insurance?" Janine asked under her breath, though whether she was really asking him or not, Egon couldn't be certain.

"Well, if you're alright now, I think I'd better leave," he said over his shoulder. "The guys wanted me to check on you, and if I'm not back soon they'll probably start spreading rumors throughout the _Times_."

"Wouldn't wanna ruin your spotless reputation," Janine called after him. Then to her herself she said, "I understand. I understand completely."

Egon quietly limped out of the room before he could begin to feel any more guilt for what he had done.

**Author's Note: **

**So, I've changed my plans for this a little. Originally I thought the last chapter and this one would be the end, but after re-thinking certain things I realized I'd have to expand a little to encompass the still pressing issue of Egon's broken ankle. Hope that isn't too much of a problem! **

**Comments, as always, are appreciated! I love to know what you all think. :)**


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